


Those that seek to Destroy My soul

by Draigawr



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, BAMF John, Character Death, Dark Mycroft, Drugs, F/F, Guns, Implied Child Abuse, M/M, Mpreg, Non-Graphic Violence, Psychological Torture, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-11-28 11:26:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draigawr/pseuds/Draigawr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years ago, Omega Dr John Watson was raped by a drug addict he had stopped to help in an alley on his way back home from his seventeen hour Accident and Emergency shift as a trainee doctor at Barts hospital. </p><p>Title is from Psalm 63:9. "But those that seek my soul, to destroy it, shall go into the lower parts of the earth."... </p><p>John Watson would always have his revenge</p><p> </p><p>Warning: Description of rape. Have no wish to upset anyone so please don't read if you have a problem with this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ten years ago, Omega Dr John Watson was raped by a drug addict he had stopped to help in an alley on his way back home from his seventeen hour Accident and Emergency shift as a trainee doctor at Barts hospital.

He knew immediately that he was pregnant, the addict, only a couple of years younger than he was, had been an Alpha and when he had been raped he had been knotted.  
  
John had lain on that filthy alley ground pinned underneath the insanely strong Alpha high on drugs, while the Alpha shot his spunk into him every time he had an orgasm, and kept it inside him locked in by mother natures efficient and cruel key, the Alpha knot, at the base of that frantic thrusting cock. John had stared with blank disbelief and despair up at the stars which peaked out between the scurrying clouds, at the back of his mind, hanging desperately on to the clinical knowledge that the pregnancy wouldn’t happen because an Omega had to orgasm during the rut,  when the evil bastard on top of him,  to John’s everlasting and corrosive shame ensured that he did come, and had seemed confused when John had finally broken down and wept bitterly, almost trying to sooth him whispering “Mine” into the Omega’s trembling neck as if that one word should solve all his problems.    
  
John hadn’t been on contraception because he was taking the regulation suppressants, and there was no morning after pill for an Omega, it was illegal. 

John hadn’t needed the confirmation from his best friend and fellow trainee Paediatrician Beta Mike Stamford to know that he was carrying the rapist’s child.

He kept his pregnancy a secret, knowing his dreams for the future would be effectively over if it became known.  
He suspended his studies, citing family reasons, because his pregnancy was the only sure fire way the University hospital could force him to leave his studies and not allow him back again because pregnant unbonded omegas were a liability in such a setting.

He went to stay with his Alpha sister Harry and her Omega wife Clara, and lived with them in quiet seclusion until his daughter was born. He was under the secret care of Stamford because her sire had been an addict and he wanted to make sure there were no repercussions for his baby. 

He saw the dark curls and cheekbones of his rapist in his baby girl but he adored her immediately and it still broke his heart, he couldn’t stop the bitter tears when he handed her over to his sister and sister-in-law to raise as their own that first day of their birth bonding. He wasn't ashamed of crying. His baby girl was owed those tears from the father who was abandoning her, who had spent the time of his pregnancy alternately hating and loving her existence.  
He stayed that final month, her birth bonding to ensure it happened safely with Clara and Harriet, and as his own self inflicted punishment for being a failure as a parent and an Omega. 

He had been accepted to complete his medical studies in the Army as an Omega field surgeon. He left when his baby girl was exactly five weeks old, and watched her turn to nuzzle at Clara’s empty breasts whilst his nipples leaked with the milk he wanted to give her. He had filled enough bottles of his milk to allow the child the best start before they needed to go to formula. He hadn’t been brave enough to feed her himself bar the one time immediately after her birth because he could never leave her if he had continued. Her little mouth suckling at his nipple had caused pain and pleasure in equal measure.

After providing the bottle he had taken the medication provided by Stamford that would ensure he stopped lactating and bound his chest so that he didn’t obviously leak until the medication had taken effect.

Clara had cried when he left and Harriet had wet eyes when she smiled sadly at him. “We will take care of her John” she whispered in his ear as she hugged him. 

The next time he saw her she was two and when she smiled at him, his heart splintered into tiny shards of longing, regret and adoration. Her silver eyes studied him as if he was the most fascinating thing in her world, and she called him Daddy John. Harry and Clara had both told him that they wanted her to do so as she would have no other father. This time he cried. He had a month to be with his adored “niece” before he was being drafted out to the War zones as he had finally finished his training and was being sent to the front lines.

He tried to ignore the tension between his sister and sister-in-law and if Harry was drinking a bit too much, he put it down to stress at work because he couldn’t think clearly as the colour of the little one’s eyes brought back his relentless nightmare.  
The raging, terrifying nightmare of helplessness, pain. fear and arousal, the one that he had spent so long trying to forget, and actively ensured that he was never vulnerable to that kind of assault again.  
He was a soldier now and he could protect himself in most situations. He sought out danger to test himself against it and when he didn’t win he found out why and rectified his mistake. But still the nightmare crept out at him and took him back to the day when he hadn’t been able to protect himself.

 

“ _Mate, look at me, what have you taken? C’mon give me something to work with here ok, so that we can get you treated properly”_

_John ignored the drizzling rain, and the wintery cold which was biting at his face and his hands as he knelt in the alley which reeked of decaying food and despairing street people, he ignored the exhaustion from his nearly double shift which meant he was too knackered to drive his car and was therefore walking the three miles home to get some rest, all because of the unexplained absence of the other trainee A & E doctor, Sarah Sawyer who had the bare faced cheek to swan in hours after her shift had started with a fake apologetic smile and no fucking explanation because he was an Omega and she was an Alpha and she thought she had the right to do it. Well her arse was so getting reported to the Consultant Tutor in charge tomorrow when he went in, a down to earth Beta who hated that kind of sexist shite._

_John gently felt for a pulse all the while trying to coax the figure on the ground to answer his questions. A long coat covered his slender frame; a mess of riotous curls covered his pale bruised face, his clothes looked expensive but filthy as he lay among the detritus of the alleyway. John had heard the mumbling and whimpering as he was walking and God help him he nearly walked past because he was so exhausted._

_His rational mind tore a strip of his dream mind for not changing the scenario, for not allowing him to walk past with an unconcerned shrug of his shoulders and just call an ambulance for the man but his dream mind continued this memory in perfect detail._

_John was about to call the ambulance when he noticed that the guy’s eyes had opened and intense silver eyes stared at him unblinking whilst his nose twitched slightly, scenting his surroundings._

_“Good” John smiled reassuringly at him “You are back in the land of the living; I am just about to call an Ambulance to take you hospital. Can you tell me what you’ve taken?”_

_But the intense blank eyes stared at him as if his words made no sense, he just sniffed the air again and then turned a predatory smile at John “Omega” he whispered with determination and a great deal of satisfaction. John took in a deep breath and his nose and taste buds finally realised what his exhaustion and the overwhelming smells of the alley had kept hidden from him “Oh fucking fuck an Alpha, a drugged up fucking Alpha”_

_He was flipped over with almost insulting ease until he was the one on the disgusting ground and the Alpha was leaning over him. He felt his legs being forced open, his wrists were held above his head with one strong Alpha hand, he tried desperately to buck and heave the Alpha off, but even though the man had a wiry thin frame he was incredibly strong. John’s movements were ignored as unimportant._

_“Mine” the deep voice whispered as he ripped his shirt from his shoulder and buried his face against the neck of the struggling man beneath him._

_“Fuck, no you bastard, stop it, fucking stop it, I was trying to help you. I am not yours” John spat in desperation, venom dripping from his voice, but underneath it he could hear his own fear._

_“Omega mine” slurred the voice before he bit into the curve of John’s neck where it met the shoulder. John screamed and his attacker laughed with delirious delight. “Mine, Mine, Mine”_

_He could have wept with shame when he felt the first wave of lubrication hit because of the savage bite and felt the Alpha draw a deep breath to scent his arousal._

_Fucking hell, he was not going to play into the stereotypical omega image as impossible to rape because they always squeezed out an obscene amount of self lubrication when an Alpha was going to take them._  
 _Fuck, fuck ,fuck, it was only an automatic biological reaction like fucking blinking, it meant nothing, it didn’t meant that he wanted this fucker to rape him. He had said no, he was screaming no, he was fighting and god help him even begging no._

_He heard a click and saw the switchblade being opened, he was terrified. He knew how dangerous and complicated stab wounds could be, he was going to be raped and then stabbed and left for dead, his horrified brain conjured up the images for him, he had seen enough stab and rape victims in Accident and Emergency, when he felt the blade slice at his trousers and pants until there was nothing but fresh air between him and the man holding him down._

_“Fuck off you bastard, get off me, get off me” he was screaming, his voice hoarse with the chant until the Alpha’s mouth came down on top of his and cut off the sounds. He whimpered into the demanding intruding imprisoning mouth, which tasted faintly of cigarette smoke, and milky sweet tea, trying to bite until he felt the free hand begin to deftly finger his exposed cock, he almost inhaled the Alpha’s tongue in shock and distress, as the bastard began to explore his balls and the underside of is shaft until his intrusive fingers made their way to his leaking entrance and danced and flickered and then brought his hand back up to put his fingers into John’s mouth._

_“Taste yourself Omega, you want me you know you do” were the slurred taunting words which dripped from his lips and ate like acid at John’s pride and self respect._

_There was no warning, he heard the sound of a zip being released, felt the Alpha’s cock stretch and harden against his, felt him thrust between his legs rubbing against his balls._

_Then he squirmed in shame as those long fingers returned to his hole, and he thrust them inside, causing John to hiss with the pain and discomfort, it burned as the fingers stretched and thrust in and out covering themselves with the lubricant, until the fingers were removed and John could feel the way the Alpha stroked his own long curved thick cock, covering it with John’s slick including the base of the knot. The Alpha’s cock hardened until it felt huge and he continued to thrust against John’s smaller cock and balls. The Alpha’s free hand stroked down John’s left leg until he gripped the back of his knee and raised the leg out and away to give him better access to John’s entrance.  
Oh God the bastard was going to do it, he couldn’t stop him. John couldn’t help himself, he felt the tears leaking from his eyes and he begged the Alpha not to do this. The wild grey eyes of the Alpha stared at his distraught face, growled “Mine” as he leant forward to lick the tears of John’s face, and as that tongue touched his eyelids, he felt the Alpha thrust and he screamed as he felt that enormous shaft force itself inside him. He was going to split in half._

_The Alpha growled with satisfaction, and then used his superior strength to sink back onto his heels and put John up off the ground so that he was impaled on his lap, and resting against the Alpha’s chest. He could feel the Alpha thrusting into him, it was so painful. But he couldn't move, he couldn't stop it_

_”Mine” gloated the Alpha as he swallowed John’s despairing pain filled whimpers against his mouth. John felt like a rag doll being bounced on the Alpha’s lap. Then the Alpha released his one handed grip on the Omega’s wrists but before he could do anything, each one was grabbed and held  against his sides as the Alpha leisurely lifted him up and down on his cock until he forced his knot painfully inside and it swelled to block the entrance to John’s aching and stretched hole._

_To John’s horror, he could feel the first of the Alpha’s orgasms as the sperm hit his insides, the disgusting grunt of satisfaction made him renew his frantic efforts to free his arms so that he could throttle the fucker, John wanted him dead, and on a slab at the morgue in Barts so he could cut him open himself and tear out his evil heart and feed it to the rats in the hospital basement._  
 _John must have said the words aloud because the Alpha fucking laughed again, licked up the side of his neck and murmured with satisfaction “definitely mine, not boring at all”. Then he changed position on John again, once more he was on the ground with the Alpha on top of his, but one of the Alpha’s hands was stroking him with possessive intent. “Breed you so you can’t leave me, fill you with my pups” he slurred against John’s neck as his hand kept stroking and teasing John whilst his cock kept pumping out semen in multiple mini orgasms whilst he was knotted inside John’s body._

 

Every time the nightmare stopped at that point and he would wake with a hard on and tears in his eyes. 

On his baby girl’s fifth birthday, he hadn’t been able to get leave to go home, he had spoken to her via Skype from the base, and she had been so excited. Clara told him fondly that the little one had declared it the best present ever to speak to Daddy John like that and had made some weak excuses about Harry’s absence on their little girl’s special day. 

On his little girl’s seventh birthday, she had sobbed in his arms while she told him that Mummy and Mama didn’t love each other any more and Mama smelt funny and sometimes couldn't stand up straight, and that Mummy had told screamed at her  to stop drinking. 

On his little girls ninth birthday, he was fighting for his life in an army hospital ward after undergoing surgery for the bullet wound which had nearly destroyed his shoulder and suffering a massive infection. On the same day Clara and Harriet Watson died in a three car pile up on a foggy motorway whilst on their way to a reconciliation weekend away. Their daughter had been left with a school friend’s family.

It took two weeks before John was well enough to be told about his sister and sister in law, it took three months for him to be well enough to be flown back to Britain after his medical discharge from the army.

It took a further five months for Captain John Watson unbonded Omega to convince the local authorities that he was a suitable and proper person to take over the care of his orphaned "niece", despite the fact that Harry’s will had stipulated his guardianship in the event of their passing, and as an Alpha her last will and testament took precedent over anything else, until he was assisted in the end by the powerful Omega rights movement who paraded his military history like a golden banner, and the authorities caved in but on the condition that he was declared fit by his therapist and that he had a suitable home prepared for her. 

It was taking forever to find something suitable for his baby girl, and he still had to regularly attend his sessions with the Counsellor. He was allowed to see his girl twice a week supervised by the current foster parents and he watched as the little one became more and more introverted.  He never allowed the bitter tears to fall, but the nightmare became more regular. Not the one where his team where dying from bullet wounds around him, instead he dreamt of the night he was raped. He had the same helpless feeling in the daytime as he did in the dream at night.  
  
It was while he was looking for their new home, and feeling increasingly dejected by the lack of affordable and relevant accommodation that he met his old friend Mike Stamford in the park.  
  
He had started to carry his gun with him now, he might excuse it as his need to feel in control in the city that had seen his deepest trauma and vulnerability but deep inside there was a part of him that wondered if his beautiful little girl might not be better off with the kind foster carers she was now living with instead of a broken unbonded omega with no prospects, and if he found a nice quiet little spot where he wouldn’t be found by any wandering kids that a quick bullet to the temple might not solve his problems. And then he would see his sister’s accusing face in his minds eye and the smile that lit up his sad little girl’s eyes when he did visit and he just patted the gun quietly and carried on.  

Mike smiled knowingly when John told him about trying to find suitable accommodation and mentioned flat share. John was intrigued, Mike said he had spoken to someone else that morning who had bemoaned the fact that he couldn’t find anyone to flat share with. 

Mike led him into one of the training rooms in Barts where a tall thin man with a mop of curly hair was working at a computer. Imperiously he had demanded Mike’s phone without turning around but Mike had refused. John full of idle curiosity and wanting to hear that deep voice speak again for some unknown reason, had handed over his own, bequeathed from Harry.

John had been fascinated by the changes to the hospital from his day and had ignored what the strange Alpha was doing with his phone until that deep voice that resonated through John’s bones asked him “Afghanistan or Iraq?”

As he turned almost reluctantly to face him, he heard the Alpha draw in a deep breath and sniff as he leant over the phone John had given him.  
  
John heard the whispered exhalation of “Mine” and he was back instantly in that alley and it was as vivid now as it was ten years ago. For a long moment, when the beat of his heart was the only sound he could hear, he was chilled to the bone with horror and the blood in his veins stilled by fear. 

The Alpha raised his face and his daughter’s grey eyes stared into John’s blank indigo ones. The face was older, more adult but the cheekbones could still cut paper and that hair was better groomed but still had those riotous, ridiculous curls.

John's frozen brain wondered for a second why he hadn't recognised the voice but then he remembered that night it had been slurred with drugs and passion. The clear cut velvet brushed tones which addressed him now had the same timbre but he would not have recognised him from his voice alone. 

The Alpha excitedly took a step towards John, his eyes wide with wonder and a shy smile on those full lips when John, in total and utter silence, drew his gun from his shoulder holster, aimed and shot the man who had raped him ten years before.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tall elegant Alpha in the beautiful grey three piece suit stared with no discernible emotion through the two way mirror in the observation room at the unconscious naked body of the man crumbled in an instinctive defensive curl on the cold concrete floor of the cold concrete cell.
> 
> Warning: This is a dark fic. This chapter is about physical and psychological torture. It includes references to implied child abuse. Please be aware of that before you read it.
> 
> There will however be at least one more chapter.

The tall elegant Alpha in the beautiful grey three piece suit stared with no discernible emotion through the two way mirror in the observation room at the unconscious naked body of the man crumbled in an instinctive defensive curl on the cold concrete floor of the cold concrete cell. But the hand holding the expensive hand crafted umbrella was clenched tightly, almost white knuckled as if this precise conservative restrained aristocratic being had to release some emotion and the only way he could do it was to leave ingrained finger marks on the polished ebony of the umbrella handle.   
  
The Alpha was exuding an unnerving menace which had driven away all but his essential personnel, his escaping minions thankful that they were not needed at that moment and praying to every deity they could think of, that they wouldn't be whilst he was in that mood.  
The Alpha's normal demeanour was that of understated ultra civilised but obvious power, the pure silk glove coating the strength of the tempered steel beneath, like finely applied subtle gold leaf gilding.  
In the observation room, that steel sang with the implacable desire for blood and vengeance and there was no mistaking the ruthless will which would satisfy that desire.  
His breathing was precise and controlled; one breath in, expand his lungs, expel the waste and one breath out. The rhythmic constant movement grounded him. He would not allow his utter rage and primal Alpha need for retribution to distract him from his goal. That could be unleashed once he had what he needed from the would be assassin.  
  
The Omega was lucky that Sherlock was still alive. If his little brother had died, if that bullet discharged from the gun by that worthless Omega had taken the life of his only surviving sibling, then Mycroft Holmes would have ensured that the Omega's death was as excruciating and drawn out as possible, but only after he had decimated the Omega’s family in front of his eyes.  
But Sherlock was alive, his heart was still beating and pumping blood through his veins and feeding oxygen to his genius mind, although when Mycroft had seen the volume of blood spilt on the glossy sanitary tiles of the teaching laboratory floor, his distraught brain had failed to comprehend how his brother had survived the loss.  
He merely offered up his thanks to whatever guardian angel had been looking after Sherlock this time and then the relief at the knowledge of Sherlock’s continued sentience  had exacerbated the absolute rage rather than dissipate it, the rage had become colder and made him more determined to exact both information and retribution, before his stubborn obsessed independent idiot of a brother intervened.  
  
Sherlock had been adamant even as he slurred his way into unconsciousness; he had very definite views on the proper treatment of this piece of filth. His brother was even under the delusion that this homicidal Omega was his destined mate.  
The Alpha gave an unamused snort, he wouldn't put it past his little brother to have a murderous mate, in fact there was an odd sort of cosmic balance to it, but to Mycroft’s unbelieving and impotent fury the fact the Omega had tried to kill him, did not disturb Sherlock in the slightest. It merely made that dangerous gleam in those argent eyes brighter and his determination to handle the situation and the recalcitrant Omega himself as immovable as that proverbial object in the face of Mycroft’s impeccably irresistible force of logic and reason.

Ten years before, Mycroft Holmes had been close to losing his beloved little brother to something he could not control and it had nearly destroyed him. He had helplessly watched his brilliant sibling’s decline into drugs and apathy because of his relentless boredom, until the crisis point was reached one freezing winters night, when he had been found half naked in a drugs induced delirium in a back street alley, screaming for his mate, and displaying the kind of instinctive aggressive bonded Alpha behaviour that meant the mate was carrying pups.  
Mycroft had had his brother’s ambulance diverted to an exclusive specialist rehabilitation facility whilst he had tried to ascertain if Sherlock’s behaviour and belief were based on the overdose or something more disturbingly real. The only evidence his team could find in the alley was that his brother had definitely had sex, but there was no secondary DNA to be found and by the time Mycroft ordered swabs to be taken from his brother, Sherlock had already been cleansed in preparation for the arduous withdrawal process and there was nothing left to provide information.  
The unpleasant truth was that Sherlock had probably paid for his latest hit of drugs with his body, and the effect of the drugs had triggered the mate delusion in order for him to retain whatever dignity, self respect and Alpha pride he had left.

Mycroft Holmes knew that caring was not an advantage, but Sherlock was the only disadvantage in a life so locked down with ice cold protocol and purpose.

So Mycroft Holmes protected his disadvantage with fervour and dedication and he had utilised all the resources at his disposal. Within twenty minutes, the Ministry of Defence had relinquished Captain Watson's military file, and Mycroft devoured it, every nuance, whisper, and bold black word in Times new roman font which told him about his brother’s attacker. Mycroft firmly believed in following the” know thine enemy” principle.

John Hamish Watson, retired Captain of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers had been a distinguished field surgeon, an excellent soldier and a superb marksman.   
  
Despite Mycroft's bone and sinew deep rage at this Omega's actions against his brother, he knew damn well that Captain Watson would not just randomly shoot anyone.  There must have been a purpose behind the attempt on Sherlock's life.  
It was a logical assumption that Captain Watson, in dire need of funds after his medical discharge from the Army, had been recruited and paid by one of Sherlock's enemies to put him out of their misery. 

Now Mycroft had to find out who that particular enemy was before Sherlock got his hands on the Omega, and discovered the plot himself, thereby ensuring even more sleepless nights for Mycroft until he could force Sherlock to accept his help.   
The Alpha took his duty to look after his little brother very seriously and he worried about him constantly. 

The one anomaly was the fact that Sherlock was still alive. The fact that Captain Watson had not completed his mission was unusual. The man simply did not miss with a gun. He was dedicated and relentless in his duty so why was Sherlock still breathing?  
His lips narrowed and he flicked his gaze to the wiry lithe Beta standing beside him at the observation window with a small intrigued smirk on his lips.

“You may begin” he uttered with cold indifference and without waiting to see the Beta’s acknowledgement, returned his gaze to window and studied the crumpled form on the floor.  
   
The freezing water which hit John's face and shoulders with the strength of a punch dragged him out of blissful unconsciousness. 

Mycroft Holmes calmly looked down at his watch. He was on a deadline but he still had time to break the stubborn Omega. Sherlock would come for him as soon as he could stand upright which would be within the next twenty four hours. The Omega had been held for less than four and Mycroft wanted answers before Sherlock’s arrival. Therefore Mycroft stood behind the two way mirror and watched every blow.

The primal part of himself that he rarely acknowledge revelled in the fact that his brother’s attacker was suffering and he buried any instinctive discomfort at hurting an Omega deep as he remembered the colour of his brother’s blood.

The Omega’s questions weren’t answered. He was just beaten systematically and scientifically, his body worked on in a predetermined route, and then it would start from the beginning again until finally the Omega couldn’t even whimper with pain and he passed out to be woken by the ice cold water, and the process started again.

He begged over and over to know what they wanted but there was never a response until finally he was left to lie in his own blood and bodily fluids.

Mycroft had been very clear about his treatment, no permanent removal of limbs, no knife wounds, no sexual torture or rape, no broken bones. If Sherlock was correct and this worthless waste of oxygen and energy was his mate then he would be furious if he was damaged too badly and would hunt down anyone who had dared to touch him sexually.

There were other less provoking methods for getting the information Mycroft needed.

The Omega was allowed to wake gradually this time. No buckets of ice cold water to flood his body with adrenaline and send his heart rate so high he could have cardiac respiratory failure. This time when he woke, Mycroft would start the interrogation

Mycroft knew that the pain would be screaming through his battered, broken bleeding body. He sat in the chair in the centre of the cell and watched as the Omega opened his swollen eyes and when he realised that he was not alone, Mycroft was satisfied at the full body flinch as the Omega tried to focus on him. But there were still remnants of defiance in the stubborn Omega’s face.

Well Mycroft now knew how to erase that, and break the Omega totally. At the slight nod of his head, a young child’s voice was piped through the hidden speakers

“Daddy John, I’m scared” whimpered the little one.

Mycroft Holmes watched with vicious satisfaction as the worthless Omega on his knees before him, shattered into splinters like delicate glass deliberately thrown to the floor.

“Who are you working for?” his voice was calm and controlled.

The cowed Omega looked up at him in confusion “I don’t understand” his voice was hoarse from screaming.

Mycroft repeated the question and watched unblinking as the Omega still remained confused

“Who paid you to kill Sherlock Holmes?”

The Omega was shaking his head as he stared up at him, Mycroft nodded once more and the high pitched scream of a terrified child squealed through the speakers.

“Christ, no, please no” begged the Omega almost incoherently as he tried to crawl towards the impassive indifferent man in the chair, before he was kicked viciously in the stomach by his previous tormentor who had been standing silently in the shadows. He lay there panting in agony, sure that one of his lower ribs was broken, under the mocking gaze of the Alpha in the chair.

When he could draw enough breath into his lungs, he begged without shame, unable to stop the tears leaking from his eyes. “Anything, please anything, just don’t hurt her, please, please don’t hurt her”, the whispers in the only sound in the room other than the ragged painful breaths he was drawing into his lungs.

“Who paid you?” the indifferent Alpha asked again

“No-one, I swear to God no-one paid me, it was revenge” the Omega barely got the words out through his bloody swollen lips and the terror clawing at him,

“Liar” was the sibilant response and the sound of the child sobbing echoed through the cold concrete cell.

The Omega flung back his head, rage, fear, pain finally breaking through the dam of his silence and he screamed the words he had told no-one except his family and best friend so long ago.

“The fucker raped me and that’s his daughter you are torturing”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer. No infringement intended, honest.
> 
> next chapter Sherlock's reaction.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the soft soothing pale amber glow of the discrete lighting of the wooden panelled private room, Sherlock’s fury shone as brightly as a crass neon banner once darkness had fallen. His dark presence there in that calm peaceful oasis of a room was disconcerting and as out of place as a jet black raven in a dovecot.
> 
> His silver eyes seared the elegant indifferent familiar figure seated before him with the frigid burn of ice.

In the soft soothing pale amber glow of the discrete lighting of the wooden panelled private room, Sherlock’s fury shone as brightly as a crass neon banner once darkness had fallen. His dark presence in that calm peaceful oasis of a room was disconcerting and as out of place as a jet black raven in a dovecot.

His silver eyes seared the elegant indifferent familiar figure seated before him with the frigid burn of ice. 

“You tortured my mate” The growl was vicious in that velvet baritone voice. Dangerous Alpha pheromones invaded the very air. The first words uttered in that room were a statement, not a question.

The words had no physical effect on the relaxed figure in the chair but the elder Alpha’s verbal response was immediate as it was equally unrelentingly vicious. “You raped him and left him pregnant”.   
The smile directed at his younger brother was brief, unfriendly and a barely concealed challenge as it contained too much teeth to be comfortable.

“Never let it be said that the Holmes brothers are remiss in their attentions to weak and vulnerable Omegas” he continued with cool dislike, before the mask slipped back on Mycroft’s face to indifference and disdain.

The slight widening of his younger brother’s eyes was the only indication that Sherlock had heard him, as the two Alphas stared at each other with matching menace in the prolonged dangerous silence that followed.

Mycroft had ensured that Sherlock’s taxi from the hospital had been directed towards the Diogenes club. It was a waste of his precious time allowing Sherlock to try to track him down through his various official and unofficial haunts in the Capital and would only irritate his little brother further and make it even more difficult to get him to be reasonable. And the fact that he was detaining the troublesome murderous omega in the bowels of the club, whilst he was being tended to by one of Mycroft’s own loyal physicians, just made it more imperative that his brother came to him directly, as no doubt Sherlock would want a reunion with his recalcitrant mate as soon as possible.

They needed to deal with the situation, and despite Sherlock’s intense dislike of his older brother’s interference, attempted murder and possession of a firearm with intent to wound were still crimes in this country, even if the victim refused to press charges. So Sherlock just had to deal with the fact he would need Mycroft’s help to keep his wayward omega out of jail and also to gain access to his child. Especially since John Watson’s defence would undoubtedly use the rape and subsequent pregnancy as mitigating circumstances, though Omega rape was notoriously hard to prove unless there were witnesses and had to be reported within three days of the incident. Mycroft’s exceedingly efficient lawyers would be able to discredit that claim but of course once it was in the public domain, it would undoubtedly need a massive amount of public relations work to mitigate the effect on the family name.

No Sherlock was just going to have to accept Mycroft’s assistance. The alternative was unthinkable and Mycroft could not allow his brother’s little domestic drama to jeopardize the greater good that was Mycroft’s position in the Government.

Mycroft already had the Omega’s child in a safe place. His niece by God, he had a niece, Sherlock had sired a child. Mycroft had almost reviewed the signs for Armageddon after finding out that little nugget of information as he was sure it must be a portent of the end of the world, or at least the end of the world as he knew it.   
The foster parents and the Local Authority had been persuaded to hand her over to Mycroft’s minions. He wasn’t a total bastard, he had his staff use the little one’s recorded mandatory sessions with the child psychologist which had been initiated upon the death of her parents and her fear for her injured Soldier “Uncle”, to put together a tape which would break the Omega. No normal Omega parent could stand to hear their child in distress, although there was no way that Captain Watson could be described as a normal Omega, but it had worked. It had worked splendidly. It had not even been the child screaming but the Omega had been too far gone with pain and fear to realise it.

The soundtrack had been obtained from the archives of a tame TV Production company he had used before for such purposes.

Mycroft Holmes would not torture children but he would happily let their parents think he had if it got him what he needed. And of course sometimes it was necessary for the sake of his beloved country that he took one or both of their parents away for ever. It was an unfortunate ripple when he had to throw stones into a family pond to resolve certain situations, but he always comforted himself with the knowledge that it was for the greater good.

Sherlock barely favoured his wounded shoulder as he paced the room aggressively, dropping his gaze from his brother’s impassive face. Mycroft relaxed back into the brown leather armchair, stroking his forefinger gently along the raised seam on the arm as he studied his brother and thought that the ridiculously melodramatic overcoat Sherlock insisted on wearing at least hid the worst of the injury.

“Where are they?” Sherlock finally broke the silence but his tone was still glacial whilst he refused to look at his brother. His gaze fixated on the huge ornate mirror above the fireplace.   
Mycroft narrowed his eyes and refused to respond until Sherlock had actually turned to look at him. He would not put up with that sort of disrespectful behaviour from anyone else and right now Sherlock needed to remember that. He was the Alpha head of the family even if Sherlock liked to pretend otherwise. He had been put to enough effort on his brother’s behalf and he had damn well show him some respect for it.

“Do you mean your Omega and your daughter?” Mycroft prompted acerbically. Sherlock was behaving as this was all his brother’s fault when once again it was one of Sherlock’s irresponsible and thoughtless actions coming home to roost like the predictable inevitable scrawny messenger pigeon

Sherlock stopped moving and stared at his brother with open mouthed shock for all of fifteen seconds. Mycroft was about to wonder aloud if his brother was attempting to catch flies when Sherlock seemed to recollect himself. “I have a daughter” he murmured almost under his breath.

If Mycroft didn’t know better, he could have sworn he heard a sort of painful awe in his little brother’s voice, but he did know better and he ignored it. “I hadn’t considered whether it was a boy or a girl” Sherlock continued as if speaking to himself.

“Technically, you don’t have her yet, she was raised a Watson by your Omega’s Alpha sister and her mate. Your Omega has been trying to get custody after their deaths since he was invalided home from the army, but he has to have suitable accommodation and be approved by his therapist before he can have her.” Mycroft informed him calmly.

“My Omega has a name, it's John Watson, use it” Sherlock suddenly erupted furiously but at the barely concealed satisfaction in his brother’s eyes, he reined in all the overflowing emotion.

“Well obviously they will now be both living with me” Sherlock’s beautifully modulated voice announced as if it was the end of the matter.

The elder Alpha looked at his little brother incredulously. For a few seconds even Mycroft Holmes was stunned at the extent of his brother’s obliviousness.

“Do you really and truly believe it is going to be that simple Sherlock?”

Sherlock frowned at his brother with utter incomprehension. Mycroft stared at him, not sure whether to laugh or cry. His brother was an absolute genius but an emotional and social idiot.

“I don’t see why not. My Mate, my child, mine, Mycroft, mine” He stated his belief with utter Alpha certainty.

“For the love of God Sherlock, you raped him while you were a drug addict, you left him pregnant, he had to give his child up, he had to give his career up and join the army. Forty eight hours ago, he tried to kill you without even asking your name. Ten years after the rape which you have so blithely dismissed he tries to kill you. Am I getting through here at all?” Mycroft was methodically ticking each point off on his fingers “He hates you. He shot you Sherlock, an Omega Doctor shot you without hesitation, your daughter doesn’t even know you exist and your brother had your mate tortured. So I repeat dear brother, do you really think it’s going to be that simple to achieve domestic bliss Sherlock?” The tone of his voice was bitterly sarcastic but for a few seconds there was almost pity in the elder Alpha’s face as he studied his brother.

Sherlock’s expression had hardened as he listened to his brother’s recitation.  He stared straight into his brother’s mocking eyes refusing to back down as he answered calmly with no hint of guilt or regret.

“It will be that simple if he ever wants to see his daughter again and stay out of jail.”

The most dangerous man in Great Britain studied his little brother as he would a fantastical bug under a microscope, then he drew a breath, blinked twice, shrugged and nodded his head in acknowledgement as he responded

“Very well Sherlock, so be it”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi,
> 
> Taken me a little longer than I wanted to do this (Brit understatement there lol!) but wasn't quite sure if this was right for the third chapter Its a bit shorter than I expected but the next chapter makes up for it. (In length anyway) 
> 
> You are all wonderful people. xxx Thank you all for your encouraging and kind comments. Please let me know what you think of this. I am really nervous about this one because I was so pleased with the second chapter. 
> 
> Next chapter.. John and Sherlock meet. ( I literally have no finger nails left now!)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pain was indescribable. Every inch of his skin felt bruised. He had thought he had known pain when he had been shot and with the horrible infection that had followed, laying him low for weeks, but that was nothing compared to this. Every breath hurt, everything hurt, every particle and molecule hurt, and even his eyelashes hurt for fuck’s sake. But he didn't care. He was too scared to care. His baby girl had screamed, they had frightened and hurt his little girl and he was in no fit state to do anything about it. He was even too scared to be angry.

The pain was indescribable. Every inch of his skin felt bruised. He had thought he had known pain when he had been shot and with the horrible infection that had followed, but that was nothing compared to this. Every breath hurt, everything hurt, every particle and molecule hurt, and even his eyelashes hurt for fuck’s sake. But he didn’t care. He was too scared to care. His baby girl had screamed, they had frightened and hurt his little girl and he was in no fit state to do anything about it. He was even too scared to be angry.

His anger had saved him so many times. When that drug addict was raping him, he had managed to subsume the fear, humiliation and despair into rage but that inhuman Alpha with his manicured fingernails, dressed in the expensive threads, who had sat and watched his torture as if he was watching fucking paint dry, that Alpha had broken him, had managed to take his anger away and had left him nothing but terror when he had heard his baby girl’s frightened sobs.

He needed to get to her, he needed to hold her, he needed to curl his broken body around her, to protect her, he needed to find a safe nest away from these evil fucking Alphas and make sure not one of them came near her again. His baby had screamed, she had screamed for him. He had heard her cry for her Daddy John. Oh God what had they done to her? She was only little, only a baby and they had made her scream. He was so scared for her, he would do anything, anything, he would sell his soul to the devil,  to make sure that didn’t happen again.

He was so deep in his fear for his daughter that it was only the sound of a door opening that made John take notice of his surroundings. His bewildered surprise forced the fear back to manageable levels as he realised that he was in a bed and clothed in loose maroon silk pyjamas of all things, which were slightly too long in the arms and the legs. One of the sleeves had been rolled up to accommodate a cannula and drip. His medical training floated the word dehydration across his conscious brain, and he wished vaguely for intravenous painkillers instead. He must have uttered the words aloud, as a soft female voice answered him gently. “The Doctor will prescribe the pain medication after he has properly examined you Sir, now try to rest until he comes”. John didn’t even have the energy to respond to the nurse and despite his pain, he faded away into blissful unconsciousness.

The next time he woke, it was to the Doctor murmuring “Your ribs are bruised, not broken Captain Watson”.

John peered up at him through the swollen bruised slits of his eyes and simply asked one question “Where is my daughter?” He could barely speak his throat was raw from his screams. But he forced the words out. He was desperate to know, he had to find out, to find a way to save her.

It was the same question he asked every time someone came to attend him. His voice was still hoarse from screaming but he never varied the question. He didn’t respond to any questions they asked him, his single minded desperate focus was on his daughter.

John had no concept of time as he faded in and out of consciousness, but at last the pain killers seemed to have eased the worst of it, although he ached to his very bones.

Finally he was answered but not by the Doctor, or the nurse who was leaving the room after taking his observations and jotting them down on the chart.

“Your daughter is safe and she will be allowed to visit you when your facial injuries have subsided and are not so frightening to a young child”, a deep baritone almost familiar voice said calmly as if they were discussing something utterly commonplace like the weather. A voice that sank into John’s aching bones like rough velvet and painfully tightened the nerves in his stomach. Oh God he didn’t want to acknowledge that voice, his scared brain refused to think about who that voice belonged to. He wanted to curl under the covers and hide like a frightened child himself. It was the same feelings of helplessness and weakness as had flooded his body, heart and psyche that night so long ago. Oh God no, he couldn’t be here, John had put a bullet in him…

The voice broke into the terrified vicious circle of fear and realisation as more calm words were uttered with the expectation of obedience.

“Look at me John, I think we have passed the point for the normal formalities, don’t you?”

John raised his swollen eyelids and met the strangely blank gaze of the tall beautiful Alpha standing near the door. John’s experienced eyes picked up the fact that despite the cool clarity of his words the Alpha almost seemed to be hovering uncertainly until under John’s gaze his body seemed to take on the calm arrogance of his words.

Suddenly rage came galloping back over the horizon to John’s rescue.

“You rape me, I shoot you, guess that takes care of any introductions needed, Sherlock” John drawled the name with contemptuous disdain and then flinched as he moved unwisely and pain screamed through his body. He tried to relax and slowly pant his way through the pain. The Doctor had obviously not prescribed a strong enough doze of the pain killers and he needed to be able to react because he honestly did not know what this Alpha bastard was going to do to him. He had shot the fucker after all.

“Come to finish what that other Alpha tosser started?” he asked tiredly, his eyes beginning to close again against his will.

A strange expression crossed the Alpha’s face and he seemed to hesitate for a second as a faint flush flooded his cheeks and highlighted those incredible cheekbones.

“No, I came to make sure that you are recovering from my brother’s over indulgent display of familial retribution”, the Alpha drawled, his voice growing stronger as he spoke.

John’s eyes popped open again and he glared with disbelieving fury at the other man.

“Over indulgent familial retribution? What is the matter with you? He fucking tortured my daughter” he queried in disgust

Sherlock studied him calmly for a few seconds, then his voice and face hardened.

“Our daughter John” he insisted, “and no he didn’t or I would have ripped his throat out with my teeth where he sat, even if he is my brother”. There was undeniable truth in the Alpha’s voice and an odd feeling of satisfaction flooded John’s body before he ignored it and continued with a snarl

“I heard her scream you bastard”

The Alpha gave an impatient sigh as if it was a chore to explain something so simple but he continued “You heard a child scream John and it was not ours.”

The disgusted disbelief on his Omega’s face was beginning to rile the Alpha.

“So that makes it ok does it, you unfeeling machine, its fine that he used some other kid’s screams to break me just as long as it wasn’t my daughter”

John was so enraged that he was struggling to get up off the bed, he needed to hurt this cold callous bastard.

Sherlock reacted instinctively for once, without using his formidable brain to track all the permutations of his actions. A firm hand pressed down on John’s chest, just to the right of the bruised ribs and the excruciating pain dropped John back to the bed like a stone, his face a mask of agony.

Sherlock stiffened and apologised quickly “I’m sorry John but you need to stay still. You are being incredibly foolish. No children or animals were harmed in Mycroft’s little production staring Captain John Watson, now lay back and rest while we discuss the future”.

Sherlock’s sardonic words cut John on the raw. How dare the bastard belittle what his brother had done to him and his little girl? Because he knew damn well she must have been frightened even if there had been no physical abuse. And now the insensitive cretin wanted to talk about their future?

“What sort of future does my daughter have with a drug addict rapist Alpha sire?” John was vicious with his words where he couldn’t be with his hands. He wanted blood, he craved this bastard’s blood.

“Our daughter John” the Alpha insisted again and then “About the same future she has with an over emotional, irrational, unemployed, broke, murderous Omega with post-traumatic stress disorder” was his biting retaliation before John could even draw breath.

They stared at each other in the following silence until to Sherlock’s utter shock John began to laugh, It had deep bitter overtones but he was actually laughing.

“That poor child does not stand a chance does she?” then drew in a breath to ease the aching in his chest. “You will have to kill me before you take my daughter away from me” John stated with utter calm certainty

“You weren’t that bothered when you gave her away as a baby” Sherlock countered nastily, then he turned away, raking his fingers through his curls but before he could say anymore, John turned away from him onto his side, he didn’t give a shit how much it hurt, as he said coldly and with utter weariness “Get out Sherlock, I can’t deal with this right now, just piss off”

Sherlock took a swift all-encompassing look at the exhausted Omega and gave a short unwilling nod. He never out anyone else’s needs before his own but he could see the state his mate was in and something unfamiliar spiked in his chest, he wasn’t sure but it might actually be concern.

“I’ll be back” he merely said as he moved towards the door. He was surprised to hear John’s bitter laughter start again “I just fucking knew you were an unfeeling automaton, and that bloody brother of yours must be a terminator too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you all so much. I am so pleased you enjoyed the third chapter. And I will respond to your comments honestly. Just had to take the opportunity to upload chapter 4 before I am back in work tomorrow. Let me know what you think of John and Sherlock's interaction. John's a bit of a sweary beast in this but he's a soldier and after what he's been through I think he has the right to be as sweary as he wants... 
> 
> I am writing chapter 5 now but its proving a bit of a bugger so might take a little longer than I thought but not as long as it took to load chapter 3 promise !!  
> Enjoy ( always seems the wrong word to use for this story but you know what I mean!) xx

**Author's Note:**

> An:  
> Characters belong to the cleverest people in the universe which doesn't include me.  
> No infringement intended.
> 
> This is a dark fic.


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